A brand-new tactic

Because Her Highness the Princess of the Two Sicilies was visiting Paris, the French Guard, as the garrison of Paris, naturally took on the responsibility of escorting her along the way. ♖👤 ♔😾

And Bessonval, the commander of the French Guard, became the busiest person.

He had to make sure all officers and soldiers remembered every step of the welcoming, guarding, and escorting procession before the princess arrived.

Such matters could not afford the slightest mistake. Therefore, he had to personally oversee the troops and repeatedly rehearse the entire welcoming and escorting process along the pre-arranged route for the princess's arrival before he could feel at ease.

The thought of the Grand Duchess of Tuscany coming later gave him a sudden headache.

The French Guard, in three Column, marched briskly along a path outside Paris. Just as they were about to reach the designated meeting point, a loud bang suddenly came from the South, and the advancing column stopped abruptly like startled rabbits.

Bessonval frowned; he could tell it was the sound of cannons.

How come there are cannons in this godforsaken place?

As if in response to his questioning, another roar came from afar.

The French Guard soldiers had already drawn their guns and were looking around, ready for any possible attackers.

Bessonval gestured to the officer beside him. The officer immediately dispatched two Hussars to scout the direction from which the cannon fire was coming.

After more than ten minutes, the cavalry returned, reined in their horses, and shouted:

"Report! It's the Paris Police Academy conducting artillery training!"

"Paris Police Academy? Artillery training!" Bessonval couldn't connect the two for a long time, and asked in confusion, "Isn't the Paris Police Academy in the Saint-Antoine District?"

"General, they say this is their training ground."

Bessonval narrowed his eyes. As the commander of the Paris garrison, he had no idea that there was a training ground equipped with cannons in the Southern Suburbs of Paris!

Actually, you can't blame him. With the level of information available in this era, if you don't deliberately send people to scout, there have been instances where two large armies could pass each other by a distance of ten kilometers without noticing each other.

With no enemy troops likely to be present around Paris, the French Guard would naturally not be idly conducting reconnaissance.

So the Police Academy's training base had been in use for a month and a half without them noticing, until they happened to pass by it while familiarizing themselves with the route to welcome the princess.

Bessonval lowered his head and thought for a moment, then instructed the officer beside him, "Order everyone to rest where they are. We'll go take a look."

At the training base of the Paris Police Academy.

Berthier watched in astonishment as nearly two hundred police officers expertly formed Infantry Line to the beat of the drums, and a messenger shouted, "Maintain formation!" before galloping past the ranks.

On the left side of the column were two Four-Pound Cannon.

Opposite them were over a hundred other police officers with white cloth strips tied to their arms.

The "White Team" seemed to lack training, with only two-thirds of them forming two thin lines, while the remaining third were scattered in front of the lines, constantly approaching the opposite defensive line.

Berthier, acting on a soldier's instincts, shook his head at Diboa and said, "If the Whites don't regroup soon, they're likely to be defeated."

The latter smiled and shook his head, "Alexander, there's nothing wrong with their formation."

"A formation?" Berthier frowned. Where was the formation in the "White Team"? It was clearly just that the officers had failed to discipline their soldiers...

Suddenly, he sensed that something was wrong.

Although the "White Team" looked disorganized, the scattered police officers at the front of the line maintained the same pace, seemingly forming a barrier in front of the Infantry Line.

Immediately, the "Blue Side's" cannons roared. Of course, this was just an exercise; no Bullet were being loaded.

The Instructor responsible for assessing casualties quickly made a judgment, and one of them told his assistant two numbers. The assistant immediately signaled to the training team that the shells had passed through the scattered ranks of the "White Side" and caused only 2 deaths and 4 injuries.

"They're throwing their lives away. I think they need more training." Berthier couldn't help but shake his head.

"Please read on patiently," Diboa calmly reminded her.

After the "Blue Side's" cannon fired twice more, the "White Side" made a change.

The drumbeats suddenly quickened, and the disorganized police officers at the front of the line erupted in angry roars:

"Charge!"

"Break through the enemy lines!"

"Don't be afraid, go for it!"

The seemingly chaotic formation began to run, and the "Blue Team" immediately responded with a volley of Flintlock Gun.

However, because the "White Team" was too scattered, the shooting only caused them limited damage. More than three-quarters of the "White Team" officers rushed to within 30 meters of the "Blue Team" Infantry Line.

"Halt!" As the officer of the "White Team" gave the order, dozens of police officers stopped simultaneously and raised their Flintlock Gun.

"Emission!"

A Powder Smoke rose from the scattered ranks. The close-range volley instantly cost the "Blue Team" seven or eight men.

Just as the "White Team" began reloading their Ammunition, the "Blue Team" returned fire again, and the "White Team" that had just rushed close was immediately judged to have 3 dead and 6 wounded.

While the "Blue Team" Infantry Line was entangled with their opponents, whose ranks were not even in perfect order, the "White Team" Infantry Line had quietly arrived within 50 meters of them.

The scattered "White Team" officers suddenly retreated and quickly "integrated" into their own lines.

Immediately, the officers in the "White Team" line raised their guns, while the "Blue Team" opposite them became disorganized due to the previous firefight.

"Emission!"

The neatly aligned "White Team" fired a volley, causing the "Blue Team" to become increasingly disorganized.

In Infantry Line- of-combat firing exchanges, whoever has the neatest formation and the most synchronized firing will have the upper hand.

Under relentless fire from the enemy, the "Blue Team" suffered increasing losses, and when a third of its members were killed or wounded, the Instructor in charge of evaluation declared them a failure.

Berthier turned to stare at Diboa, his face filled with disbelief—how could the chaotic "White Team" have won? They even had slightly fewer people than the opposing team!

From his first day at military academy, he was taught that "Infantry Line must remain in perfect order; if chaos ensues, it is better to cease firing than to regroup."

He was certain that the exercise had been very professional, without any bias, so why did the side with the more disorganized formation win?

Diboa explained to him, "This is called ' Skirmisher Charge Tactic.' It was invented by His Crown Prince."

"Skirmishers? That's impossible..." Berthier looked puzzled. Austria often used Skirmishers formations, but that was for the convenience of mountain warfare. He had never heard of using it to break through an enemy's orderly Infantry Line.

Joseph, who was watching the exercise from the front, felt somewhat ashamed, thinking to himself that this was a tactic created by Napoleon, and he had just copied and pasted it.

However, he turned around, revealing a sly smile, "Major Berthier, if you'd like to learn more about this tactic, you can come to the Paris Police Academy often. Oh, there are many other new tactics here that you might also find interesting."

Bessonval had barely caught a glimpse of the walls surrounding the Paris Police Academy training base when he was stopped by several men in Police uniforms. "Police Academy training, no approaching!"

An officer spurred his horse forward and said arrogantly, "This is General Bessonval, commander of the French Guard. Who is in charge here? Bring him over."

(End of this chapter)